You might ask, why not go into the library, and sit at the table at a big picture window overlooking Lake George?
Well, first of all, I couldn't suck on my delicious Stewart's iced coffee, the best iced coffee anywhere.
Then, too, sitting at a table surrounded by books, rather than hunched in my car over a computer, like a crazy plotter, would be just too much like actually working on my dissertation.
And that could be really scary.
10 comments:
what happened to the other one?
hi leah,
i've been lurking here, wondering what to say about your map then today i realised i should just admit that i'm addicted to my stat counter :)
now i just have to wander off and figure out why anyone would want to sit in their car to write? the coffee is very good reason but i don't think it would be enough for me
k
Stewart's Iced Coffee....mmmmmmmmm.
LMAO! Leah...I can just imagine you sitting in your car hunched over your laptop..sipping iced coffee! It must look like you are a some type of plotter for sure or undercover who is watching someone! LOL! You crack me up girly!
Hugs,
Robyn
When I saw that you have an Apple laptop, my respect and admiration for you grew even more.
Imagine it as a getaway vehicle.
Nothing like Stewart's Iced Coffee. Love that place. We all used to hang out in the Stewart's in Woodstock if we had enough money to buy ice cream. Otherwise we got kicked out!
Here's another one. My dad would treat us to 3 things, ice cream suppers, pizza suppers and KFC suppers (usually because Mom hadn't gone grocery shopping at Shoprite). One very snowy, cold night Dad said "Girls, let's get ice cream (we're all in our teens and he still called us "girls!)" So off we went to Woodstock for our ice cream supper. It was ALWAYS a challenge being seen anywhere with Dad in public because it was his mission to embarrass and humiliate the crap out of us. No seriously, he's a very funny man and derived great joy in that. My sisters and I all stayed in the Pontiac station wagon while Dad purchased the usual 3-4 gallons of ice cream. He would turn to us and be his goofy self even though the parking lot was full and so was Stewarts. We just slinked further down in our seats hoping none of our friends were in the general vicinity to witness our humiliation. Then out he came. We weren't parked too far from the door and as he started for the car he mistook himself for Benny Hill and proceeded to embarrass the crap out of us, but the Stewarts sidewalk had other plans. Dad hit a patch of ice and down he went right in front of the Pontiac! Ice cream went flying, Dad's ass hit the pavement hard and my sisters and I were on the floor in absolute hysterics. It's a legend in our family and Dad still denies it happened. Says he was "...trolling for coins."
And yes, I do believe ice cream suppers border on child abuse. Who would give 9 kids all that sugar at 7 pm and then wonder what the hell's wrong when they start bouncing off the walls.
I love this post and you. Thanks for taking me back with just a car and a cup of iced coffee. Don't ever change...keep typing in the parking lot. It becomes you!
The biggest XO
I won the biggest Goggle challenge ever. Go to my blog to appreciate.
hey you come and check out the crazyness over at my place! It is crazy!
Hugs,
Robyn
Oh Stewart's, how I love thee, because you sell pre-made peanut butter and jelly on a roll. Or just peanut butter. Or just butter. And that's just what I like. Love your office. Last summer P and I lurked in a parking lot in a small town in Vermont because there was wifi somewhere emanating out and we had to have it!
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